The Living
by Avita Suicide
Summary: Illinois has never looked as good as it does once the Atlanta Survivors decide to head north. But will this just be another seemingly safe harbor for them to loose more people in? Daryl D/OC
1. Illinois?

The prison was a bust. The prison itself was safe, but after winter and everything else that happened with the Governor, they needed to move on. Find more food, find things for the baby. Lori was halfway through her pregnancy and they needed somewhere to bring the baby into the world. They had their caravan on the move, going north, almost out of Georgia. Daryl was in front on his motorcycle, staying three car lengths ahead and looking out for any kind of blockage or walkers. Rick, Lori and Carl behind him, all trying not to get to lost in their thoughts. T-Dog, Carol and Beth in the third car, both women trying to make polite small talk even though they were on edge. Glenn, Maggie, and her father Hershel sat in relative silence, aside from the sometimes awkward remark from Glenn. Then, bringing up the rear, were Andrea and Michonne talking about each member, both still on edge around the group.

Because Daryl was in front he saw the truck barreling directly at them about a mile away. He watched them slow their speed, but not very much, and watched with slightly more interest as while they came to a stop about two hundred yards away a girl popped up, siting on the window while keeping her lower half in the cab and pointing a bright pink crossbow at him. The entire convoy came to a halt as Daryl did, Rick stepping out of his car to step into his role as leader, while those in the cars further back strained to see what was holding them up.

"Why don't you put that weapon down, now?" Rick slipped his voice into the one he used when reprimanding teenagers before the end of the world. She simply laughed and turned her aim to him.

"Why don't you give me a reason?" The driver of the car had started checking his gun, slowly putting the silencer on while watching the two men. Allowing his female companion to take the lead, this was her trip, after all.

Rick raised one hand slightly, placing the other on top of his gun while assessing the situation. They could surely take out the two lone survivors if the need arose, but he'd prefer if it didn't. "We're just trying to head north, not lookin' for trouble." She didn't lower her crossbow, only shifted so she was straddling the door. It allowed Daryl to look over one of her pale legs, taking note of the long scars that he saw peaking out of her cut out shorts.

"We're looking for the CDC." Both men took note of her lacking the southern accent, she was from further north. She took her finger off of the trigger but didn't lower anything. The driver watched, counting the cars he could see, trying to count the bodies. "They got a kid" he said to her, successfully making her lower the crossbow, placing it on top of her leg and looking both men over. He didn't have an accent either.

Daryl snorted, half smirked at the girl trying to be a bad ass with a pink crossbow and told them that the CDC had blown up before winter, the statement making her look at him, scanning his exterior like a lion. "Yours too, huh?" She placed the crossbow inside the cab and climbed out of the window fully, her companion exiting the cab and placing the gun on the hood, leaning against the front bumper.

He was tall, over six foot, it was hard to tell with his black hair sticking up at odd angles and his leaning. He was wearing a white t-shirt and black shorts, he looked to be around 25, but you never could tell anyone's age anymore. The female was almost his opposite, barely reaching half over five foot and wavy blonde hair that ended where her hips began. Her shorts barely covered her thighs and her black tank top clung to her breasts. She looked barely old enough to drink.

She stopped walking when she was four feet away from the unknown men before smiling brightly and keeping her voice low. "You have a kid in your car which is the only reason I left my weapon in the truck" Rick nodded, not expecting her to go on, "but one move that could be considered wrong and he will shoot you." She let her eyes flick between both men before landing on Rick, the one who seemed to be in charge. Or at least think he was.

"You can call me Airmid, and the strong and silent one is Miach" she said while nodding her head over her shoulder at the man. He nodded to them when he heard his name but other wise stayed still. "We're apparently headed home to Illinois, how far north are you going?"

The Atlanta survivors hadn't thought of that, just decided north was the best option. They wanted to get out of Georgia to see just what was going on in other parts of the world, apparently, they were going just about the same. They weren't thinking about finding people anymore, sticking mostly to back roads because of it, but fate seemed to have another option for them.

"I'm Officer Rick Grimes and this is Daryl Dixon. We..haven't quite decided how far we're going yet." Airmid turned from them, looking at Miach and having some kind of silent conversation with their eyes before they both nodded, and she turned her attention back to them. "How many of there are you?"

"Twelve, including us..." Rick seemed unsure about telling her, but Miach moved back into the truck, pulling out a walkie talkie and starting the chain. There were a few others from their little family further up, then a few more up even more until it finally got back to their home. They were given the affermitive and told to remember protocol.

"Cami says we got room." Miach said while stepping back out of the truck, holding his door open and waiting for her to get back in. Another CDC was gone, and therefore, they had no reason to stay down here.

"Well, you heard the man." She said while turning around and walking back to the passengers side. Daryl noticed the black ink of a tattoos on her shoulders, almost looking like feathers. "Follow us."

* * *

"Why are we following them?" Lori asked after it became apparent that was their current plan. She ha already asked who they were, what they were doing on this rode, why they were pointing their weapons at him, why he hadn't drawn his gun on them, why Daryl didn't didn't draw his and why they turned around.

Rick was tired of answering questions he planned on answering when they setup camp for the night. So, he sighed, he chalked up her overbearing questions to the pregnancy and noticed the sun starting to set and the Truck in front of them flash their safety lights before pulling up a driveway to a cabin that he would have assumed was adandoned if it hadn't been for the signs out front. One with "moved up: 1:06PM" and the other "Follow Protocol." They had made it through the small section of Alabama running into very few walkers, and were currently a quarter through Tennessee.

He watched as the two younger adults moved from the truck and started to quickly strap on various weapons. The girl let her crossbow hang at her side while she strapped on a few knife sheaths to her thighs and hooked two machetes on the hip opposite her crossbow. The boy grabbed a few more guns, all with silencers, and strapped a few of his own knives to his belt. They nodded to each other and while the Atlanta surviors started exiting their cars and moving towards Rick, Airmid walked into the cabin, and Miach checked around the perimeter.

They didn't make a show of it, trying to prove themselves, they didn't ask for help. Simply did what they knew to do before moving back to the group of survivors. Daryl had made himself busy grabbing his things from the light blue truck and checking them over.

"You're knocked up?" Airmid asked Lori after the annoyed woman caught her eye and proceeded with an attempt to look dangerous to the crossbow carrying woman. "Yes." She answered after a moment, she nodded to Miach who was talking into a walkie talkie, again.

"Right." She said before addressing the entire camp, "My name is Airmid, this is safe point nine and stop one. There will be three more before our home in Illinois. At each stop, after inspection, we will call to hour friends who are ahead so they can start the chain back to the house. They will leave us supplies, we call before we leave in the morning, and we will only stop if we absolutely have to. If you all want to come with us, you are more then welcome and we have more then enough room, but if not, stay away from Ohio. It's still radio active." She turned and left, allowing the group to talk amongst themselves. She had started eating some jerky and cleaning weapons when Miach joined her.

"Think they'll come?" she shrugged laying the knife she had been working on down. "Just because the CDC's are gone, doesn't mean the scientists are," he tried to comfort her, they had been doing this more the better part of six months, trying to find a still in tact lab.

"James found some more needles and supplies at a FEMA station, I put them up front." She nodded. They didn't really need anymore samples, didn't really need anything more, just the equipment to make a difference, and maybe someone who could work it. James was a head of them, one state up, and waiting for the call in the morning so they could move out. They were going to be gone for a few weeks, but that changed. They never used all the time they were given, they never found anything.

Rick was walking towards them when they were laying down their sleeping bags in the bed of the truck, he watched them for a moment, making sure neither had any weapons in their hands before talking to them. "Now, we haven't made a final decision, we have a few questions." The pair knew they would and had no problems doing to, Miach was about to speak before Rick decided he had something else to say, "I'd really appreciate it if you two could follow our rules as well while we're together."

The statement made the two laugh, and caused Daryl to look up from where he was setting up his tent for the night. He noticed the way she gripped the side of the truck and closed her eyes as if it had been the funniest thing she'd heard all apocalypse.

"Rick," Miach started, being the first to calm down with Airmid was still rocking with now silent laughter, "you're not our leader and your badge means nothing. You're welcome to come, and we'll answer your questions but..." he was cut off by Airmid laughing again.

"You're not our daddy, and you can follow our rules" she finished.

* * *

**A/N:: I make no promises that I will keep this. Let me know if any one is actually interested or not and I'll keep updating. If you are, don't hesitate to review. **


	2. Walker Baseball

**Warning: This chapter contains the smoking of pot and killing of zombies. Enjoy it.**

_Walker Baseball._

They made the third and final stop around noon, designed in a way to let everyone decide if they really wanted to follow the two survivors the rest of the way. They hadn't learned much about them as individuals, but they did get answers for all the questions they had about what Airmid and Miach call "home".

They learned that you can leave whenever you want, no one will force you to or attempt to convince you to do so.

They learned that "you get used to it" is the only way they could find to describe their lack of walker attacks on their land.

They learned that the main building used to be a hotel, that there are plenty more rooms, but they're mostly taken up by singles and orphan kids and teenagers. That the surrounding buildings are trailers they "liberated" from a trailer park, a few cabins that they had built ("more being built as we speak"), and in some of the higher trees, tree houses.

They learned that they had running water, and that everything ran on propane.

They learned that everyone did everything on a rotating chores schedule, aside from hunters and Dr. Anna, because they had bigger jobs to do.

They learned that these people hadn't lost anyone to a walker in eight months, and the one that they lost then had not been attacked. Airmid and Miach didn't say anything more about it.

Daryl had noticed a few things about the two from observation. He learned that neither of them would put up with Rick's attempts to boss them around. When the leader had tried to tell them that they needed to share their seemingly endless pile of weapons, they laughed and told him to ask nicely and teach his people to use them first.

He saw Michonne and Andrea each taking to the young crossbow wielding blonde, whether because they enjoyed how she wrote off Rick's attempts of going even slightly off protocol, or because they both enjoyed having another strong female he couldn't tell. He noticed that Miach was always looking around, always taking in the conversation before joining, allowing Airmid to take the lead on most things.

He also noticed her tattoo one morning when she was wearing a halter top. It was a set of large black angel wings, he couldn't see just how far down they went, but he saw how they each extended onto her shoulders and wrapped slightly around her ribs.

He saw them talking from time to time, saw her frowning whenever his lips moved around "CDC". He didn't like the way she frowned, her body would hunch forward and you could see the sadness be almost painful on her face. It didn't look natural on her.

"Alright, there's an hours drive left, then we're home." She looked around before turning back to placing two baseball bats in the front of the cab, one wooden and the other aluminum. She pulled out a box and sat on the dropped tailgate next to Miach before continuing.

"If any of you want to go a different way, there's a map in the house there" she said nodding behind her but not looking up from placing the nuggets of blue weed into the grinder, only catching peoples eyes when she started the process of actually twisting it. "If you are coming, I have to tell you how we will be entering..." She was going to continue, but after handing the grinder with now broken up weed to Miach who had just opened the blunt wrap, Rick spoke up after being hit one to many times by Lori's elbow.

"Is that marijuana?" The two looked at each other, a look of amusement playing on both of their lips, "there's a child here" Rick tried to reason, lowering his voice and giving them his best father/cop look, causing Airmid to erupt into giggles before taking the now rolled blunt from Miach.

"Rick, we're not offering your son anything. This," she held up the stick to Rick's line of sight, "is blueberry haze, and I don't share this with just anyone." She smiled at him again and took in the shocked faces of Carol, Lori and Hershel and the amused faces of Daryl, Glenn, T-Dog and Maggie, the rest looking uncaring or simply annoyed.

"So, how do we enter?" Glenn asked after a moment of Rick still trying to stare the two down.

"Well, my Asian invasion friend," Airmid said while turning her large smile to him, "we make some noise. Have you ever played mailbox baseball?" She stood up and uncovered a large speaker in the bed of the truck, checking the cable and turning it's volume knob as loud as it would go before walking back to the tailgate and jumping down.

"The noise brings any stragglers that the rest didn't get and it alerts the rest that we're almost there," Miach explained while Airmid made herself comfortable while straddling the closed passenger door. "Walker baseball is like mailbox baseball. You swing and hit them in the head, you can use a machete if you want. Or you don't have to play" he finished before closing the tailgate and jumping behind the wheel.

Daryl liked their idea of fun, and took notice of how excited Airmid seemed about playing it. He still had his ax from the CDC that he had been itching to use, figured it would work just as well. Once they were on the road again Miach and Airmid started playing a CD, after a few songs it became apparent that it was a mix of different classic rock songs. The music mixed well with the hum of Daryl's motorcycle, it almost made him remember speeding down the back roads to his house with his radio blaring.

They didn't come across any walkers for twenty minutes, then they saw one every few miles. Airmid would hold onto the inside of the cab with one hand and swing her bat with the other, and she'd bounce slightly on the door when they're heads would come off, the action turning to slightly dirty thoughts for Daryl.

Daryl had nailed a few with his ax, the blood getting on his bike in some cases, Airmid had taken to watching him work from the rear view mirror while she lit the blunt. They still had about thirty minutes until they would be home, so they might as well smoke now. After passing it between the two of them a few times she turned her head and caught the motorcycle driving man's eye stretching her arm out slightly to offer it to him.

He pulled up to the side of the cab and watched her, placing his ax on her lap and grabbing the blunt with his now free hand. She didn't look annoyed or grossed out when the dirty tool was placed on her without permission, just smiled and passed the blunt between the three of them for a while.

When she nodded ahead Daryl took notice of the double fences with walker bodies piled between then and the large brick building he assumed was the hotel. He watched the people look up at them and the gates opening while he took on last hit of the blunt before handing it back and falling into the line again.

* * *

The group sat in the large dining room, barely taking up one of the tables, with Airmid laying on top of one as one of the younger kids placed different stones and jewels on her body. "What are you doing Bridge?" a women with graying hair said as she entered the room. She wore hiking boots with her dark jeans tucked into them and a green t-shirt.

"Decorating the Goddess, Cami." the little girl giggled. She did this every time Airmid came home from a trip since she had learned about mythology and were Airmid had taken her name from. A few people took the end of the world as a way to reinvent themselves, so when they introduced themselves, they gave a new name.

Airmid got her's from Dr. Anna, one of the first people she ran into after the world ended, who had tended to her, and told her that she was like the Celtic Goddess. "Well, Airmid and I need to talk to these people, don't you think she'd decorated enough?" the small girl nodded and took off her decorations before leaving the room to go play with the other children.

"Why don't you let your son play with the kids in the lobby?" Cami asked, her attention fully on Rick and Lori while Airmid moved to sit in front of Andrea, smiling while the Officer and his wife tried to decline the offer.

"Cami, can we just do this? I need to find Alexis and her Southern Comfort too give the good news of more people from the south. And shower." The older women nodded and addressed the group, informing them of the small interview to determine were they would be doing their chores and if they'd be given a house, of sorts, or a room.

"Andrea," Airmid started, "what did you do before this and what skills do you have or have you acquired since the end of the world?" The question was very formal coming from the obviously stoned women and made Andrea think before answering. She didn't want to be stuck with "woman's duties" again.

"I was a lawyer. I did all the normal woman stuff when the camp first came together, I can fish and I'm a good shot with a gun." Airmid nodded, taking note of her obvious dislike of the idea of "woman's duties"

"Have you ever worked with tools? Can you paint a room? Are you able bodied enough to learn?" Andrea answered yes to painting and willing to learn. Airmid explained that she will have to do some laundry and cooking, as almost everyone else would, but she also might be put on construction, building more housing for the growing group was important.

The only people left to interview were Lori and Carol, a task neither Airmid or Cami looked forward to. Both of the women didn't seem to do much, Airmid noticed while on the road, Lori seemed to spend most of her time screaming her son or pestering her husband and Carol just seemed to sick back and watch, only really helping when it came to cooking and cleaning up after.

"I can help in the kitchen and do laundry, but I'm pregnant..." Lori started, making the older woman snort slightly trying to stop herself from laughing.

"You aren't the only one here with a bun in her oven, you know. Charlotte helps out plenty outside of the house. Tends the gardens, watches the kids. I'm sure a nice mother like yourself can handle half a dozen kids, right?" Lori's face looked shocked, then angry, as she looked to her husband demanding he stand up for her with her yes.

"Look—Cami, isn't it?-my wife is in her second trimester, she can't do a lot of bending and lifting." Airmid actually started laughing and Cami covered her face with her hand to keep from doing the same.

"Charlotte is in her third, and she's not lazy enough to sit back and let everyone else work just because her feet are swollen." Cami turned her attention back to Lori, "I'm sure you understand the importance of doing your fair share." The older women stood and moved down to were Carol sat with Airmid, waiting to see how the young women handled the other "hard case" as they dubbed it.

"What about you Carol, what can you do?" The gray women looked nervous, not wanting to have her own abilities questioned.

"I'm a good home maker, I-I can't do much outside. I can tend the garden's though." She looked almost hopeful that it would be enough, that she wouldn't be forced into learning how to hammer things or shoot them.

"That's lovely, what else? Can you protect yourself?" She women shook her head and Airmid sighed, making a short note on her pad and then smiling at Andrea's snort of laughter. The women who had told the group that she was obviously dead still hadn't gotten back into her good graces.

"Maybe you and Lori can learn how to do more then woman things while you're here." Airmid said, her voice taking a cold tone. She didn't really want to sound as mean as she did, but with the world being over for a year and people, her people, starting to rebuild, she didn't understand how someone could have so little survival skills. If they had ever been left alone, they'd be walker food within a day.

"Hunters are back!" a little boy yelled into the room while everyone moved outside to greet the only people missing from their family.

* * *

**A/N: ** I really just wanted to get the idea of walker baseball out of my head, but I got a few people who added the story so I figured I'd at least give you something else to decide if it's worth continuing or not. If I do, next chapter will have more Daryl and his interactions with people (from the group, from the new group, and with Airmid).


	3. Brothers Grimm

_ Brothers Grimm_

"Ya' get pretty excited to see the hunters 'round here." Daryl hadn't moved from his seat when everyone else started piling out to meet the community, but he was watching from the window.

"They're pretty much the most important people." Airmid said, shrugging her shoulders while pushing chairs back in and then placing plates in front of each chair. "We need meat, they get it. We need gun power, they have it. We need to know how to cook small game, they teach us." She had pegged him for a hunter the moment they stopped, the way he watched her sent chills down her spine. Like he was trying to figure her out without words.

Maybe he had, she doubted that she'd ever know.

"Those three are only half of the hunters, they go out two days in a row, or they stay out for two days, then the other three go out for two days. You'll probably be in the second group." She watched him as she finished up placing plates down. They still had a few hours before dinner, but she wanted to stay in the room with him and couldn't think of anything else to do.

"Only two came back." He said, she didn't gasp or get teary eyed when she looked out and saw that he was right. She was slightly preoccupied with the fact that he could have been the one to tell her that the world had ended and with his southern drawl she wouldn't have been even the least bit upset.

"Come on." She walked to the double doors and after a few moments he followed, keeping relatively close while she walked up to a women with short black hair and a rifle slug across her back. "Lex? Southern Comfort out gutting everything?" Alexis, or Lex, nodded before taking note of the man standing behind her friend.

"This is Daryl," Airmid turned around and gestured to the hunter who was back to looking at everyone in the uninterested way he did, "We picked his group up in Georgia. Isn't your man from there?" Lex nodded, not taking the fellow hunters hand and instead turned back to the tree line.

"He just loves using that knife we fashioned. Makes him feel like a regular bad ass. Wont let any of us gut anymore, says he needs to 'learn to work it'" Lex gave a half laugh, the makeshift knife/hand had been a regular part of his wardrobe for almost as long as they had been apart of the family. It annoyed Airmid to no end not being allowed to call him Edward Scissorhand ("do I look like a crazy haired emo to ya'?") or Captain Hook ("doesn this look like a hook to you, girl?"), he allowed her to nick name him Southern Comfort ("guess I am a lil' warm goin' down") after a few months of her ignoring his protests, though.

"Good group?" Lex asked, directing her question to Daryl but expecting Airmid to answer for him. When she didn't Lex looked at her friend, Daryl had taken a step forward when he saw the man walking out of the tree line carrying a small doe over his shoulders. He hadn't noticed them before he was shouting for one of the other hunters to get the other deer before some walker decides to stake claim.

"Merle?" it fell from Daryl's lips in almost a whisper, but it was loud enough for the few members of his group to look in the direction and for Airmid and Alexis to turn their attention to him. "You know my husband?" Lex asked after a moment, turning away from Daryl's stunned look to face Merle's equally shocked one.

The older Dixon dropped the doe into the arms of a man passing him before walking with a purpose toward his wife and brother. And Airmid, who was more like an annoying sister-in-law then family. "Well, I'll be." He said, stopping in front of his younger brother before both wrapped their arms around each other for a moment before stepping back and coughing roughly. Coughing like men.

"Loosin' your touch brother," Daryl frowned deeper at his brothers comment, "took ya' a good long while to track me." Merle said it with a smile and it was the first time he noticed his brother wasn't high, or drunk, or any combination of those. It was the first time in his entire 28 years that he wasn't the sober (or just less fucked up) Dixon man.

"Got held up, didn' I?" Daryl replied while extending his hand to the Atlanta Survivors who were looking at the brothers with astonished and slightly scared looks on their faces. "An' you went an' got all soft. Marryin' and what not." Airmid giggled softly getting a glare from the older Dixon for the trouble, causing her to stick her tongue out at him.

"You both have a lot of catching up to do," Lex said while moving to Airmid's side and grabbing her arm, "Merle, why don't you take your brother to the house and catch up." She started pulling Airmid away when the smaller girl turned and handed a small baggie to Daryl and turning her attention to Merle.

"I still have some beer at my place if you want. Celebration and all," she smiled and allowed Alexis to drag her off and introduce her to the newest members.

* * *

The brothers walked in silence to the back of the hotel, the clearing that had been there was now turned into a small village. There were six trailers in three neat rows and three cabin's lined up behind them, with two more in the process of being built beside those. Daryl could see the large oak trees on the tree line with houses in them, roofed and all.

Beyond the housing was a field with a few small rows of crops, some animals fenced in to the side, the different species each had their own area and a semi-large barn was behind them. Merle walked to the last row of trailers where a Rottweiler was tied between the two. It lifted it's head and barked a few times as the men approached, it's eyes focusing on the younger brother.

"Shut it, Zeus." Merle said as he walked to the trailer on the left. The smell of weed coming from the small garden almost overwhelmed Daryl and made him stop. "This'ins Airmid's," he said walking through the door. Daryl stayed outside, only looking in and noticing that he could see part of her living room from were he was standing, she had a couch and a table and not much else in the room, though without a TV he could understand the lack of furniture.

Merle returned after opening and closing some doors a few times with four beers that had once been apart of a six pack and closing the door. "Come one, lil' brother," he said while passing the dog again and walking into the (a bit smaller) trailer next door. This one opened up right to a hallway that leads to a kitchen. There was a small bathroom off to the right and Daryl followed his passed a small dining room and into the living room, they had a couch and a few used to be car seats set up around a table.

Daryl dropped the baggie Airmid had given him on it and took a beer, sitting on one of the car seats, while Merle mimicked him sitting on the couch.

"Where'd ya' meet the girl?" Daryl wasn't usually one to start the conversations, but being without his big brother for so long had made him grow. Merle took a long drink before answering, deciding to tell the entire story. He was clean now, has a good woman that slaps him upside the head when he's being to much of a dick and lets him hit people who deserve it—with his hand.

"Once I got out that buildin', I was stumblin' 'round in a shit ton o' pain, an' lookin' to get out the city. Found a van wit keys in it the next day, took it, was killin' walkers wit a pipe. Got lost lookin' for the camp, went to far east." He started breaking up the weed and laying it on top of a book while talking.

"I had been seein' things, talkin' to God like he was talkin' back, crashed into a tree. I was there a few days, then Lex found me. Once she figured out I what'nt dead she slapped me for bein' stupid. Took me back to sum house she was stayin' in, laid me up and ignored every nasty thing I said to her. Gave me pills for the infection, sat wit me through the withdraws, slapped me a few more times. We just traveled together for a while. Til Airmid an her sister found us while lookin' for some CDC buildin'. Brought us back here..." He trailed off.

Daryl just listened, listened to the story and tried to figure out when his brother stopped being the emotionless man he grew up with and started being this calm and sober one. They didn't speak for a while, passed a bowl between the two of them and drank from the cans of warm beer, each stuck in their own thoughts. Daryl eventually told his brother what had happened since he'd been gone.

Talked about the CDC, the farm, loosing Sophia, he even told him about seeing him while he was bleeding out and beat up from falling down a mountain side. Twice. It made Merle laugh, telling his brother how he thought he'd seen him a few times too. Mostly in the beginning of getting clean, and a few times when he found ways to fall of the wagon.

Even apart, they still pushed each other.

"Hey boys," Alexis said while entering the living room, frowning slightly at the empty cans and cashed bowl on the table, "you're picking this up," she said while looking at Merle, almost daring him to deny that fact.

Then she turned her attention to Daryl, smiling at him as if she'd known him forever, "We don't have room here for you to stay," Merle was going to protest, his brother could sleep on the couch, there was no way this woman would be breaking up the Dixon brothers—even if it was _his_ woman. "But," she started again, holding up her hand to stop whatever protests he was about to give, "Airmid has a two bedroom and the second is empty. She's putting fresh sheets on the bed right now, why don't you go get your stuff and settle in before dinner?"

Daryl wanted to protest, but the look he was getting from the older woman was enough to stop it in his throat, so he stood, told his brother he'd see him later and moved back to the hotel to get his things.

* * *

**A/N: **And next chapter begins the fun of them living together. And you get to meet Dr. Anna. And because it's The Walking Dead... I am going to be throwing in some walkers to be killed. Stay tuned, and leave reviews for what you think should happen.

**Emberka-2012: **I don't personally think that anyone who cannot protect themselves are to useful, but I was thinking about making it like the the hunters in this new society are like rockstars.

**Leyshla Gisel:** Isn't the pink crossbow awesome? Wait until she gets to use it, and some of her other weapons I picked out for her.


	4. Q Shot: Utah Sucks

**What is a _Q Shot_? Well, it's a small snippet about one of the characters in the story who goes by the name of Q. I will not be writing the Q Shots, my friend Dante does because the character is based on him. Q will be a main character of the story, and will be involved in the next chapter. Enjoy the back story of yet another survivor. **

_Q Shot.  
Utah Sucks. _

"You find anything in there?" A voice asks from a small blue walkie-talkie, laying comfortably upon the checkout counter of a Super America gas station. Next to it sat a dark skinned male, no more than 17 years of age. He wore a simple pair of dark blue jeans and a black hoodie over a Deadpool t-shirt, lit cigarette wedged between his lips. He takes a long drag before he goes to pocket an open pack of Marlboro Smooths, Sliding off the counter to go and search the back shelves for more smokes to claim as his own.

"Hey Q, you there?" The voice asks again. Q continues his search for spoils still, blatantly ignoring the calls from the walkie.

"HEY Q!"

Without missing a beat he snatches up the walkie with his thumb pressed against the transmit button.

"I'm right here, keep it down; daddy needs his smokies and he can't work if you go off letting every deadhead know I'm here."

"Oh come on man, again?" The voice asks, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "What?" Q answers back. "I'll share...maybe...possibly...eventually." The radio falls silent. Q chuckles to himself as he imagines the voice on the other side banging their head against a wall. "Ah don't worry, I already looked around; the shelves are all stripped of food, nothing left but work gloves, motor oil, that sort of thing." He looks over to the shelves as he answers. He'd be right if it weren't for the bags of Cheetos and Lays lining the front counter.

"Just...just finish up and get out of there. No point hanging around if there's nothing there, plus there's more deadheads crowding the streets." Having snatched a couple of cartons up from the shelf he goes to load up the black gym bag, making sure he loaded up on some of the junk food from the shelf so the others wouldn't be too sore for his self indulgence.

"Hey Q?" "Yeah Gabe?" He asks, zipping up the bag as he readies to call it a day. "Get me a Carton of L&Ms would ya?" Q pauses and laughs quietly to himself, getting onto his feet and circling around to the front counter. "Knew you'd come around bud." He answers back, grabbing a carton of the menthol's. Gabe hated menthol's. He kneels in front of the bag, opening it up just enough to slip the new acquisition into the bag.

"_Klang"_

The sound of a fallen pipe echoes almost painfully through the otherwise silent store. Without missing a beat Q was on his feet, whipping a 357 CO2 revolver from his belt and pointing it towards the door to the back storerooms. "Dammit Gabe you were supposed to be watching!" Q whispers harshly into the walkie, slowly inching towards the door, his foot dragging the bag back with him. "I am man, everything looks good out here." "Yeah out there genius, one of'em must've gotten in from the _back..." _

The pipe in back rolls across the floor, now accompanied by the sounds of shuffling feet and low groans. "Alright dude don't panic, I-" "A little late for the _don't panic_ part." Q cuts Gabe off, aiming down the sights of the 357 at two walkers emerging through the door. The first pauses and looks his way, blood drooling from its lips and its jaw twisting and turning in way to suggest partial fracturing. The walker tilts it's head back and lets out a loud and lengthy groan.

"For fucks sake..." Q says to himself, pocketing the radio and snatching the bag from the floor as he bolts for the door. It was alerting others to his presence.

He charges through the doors, not bothering to check what was around him, only concerned with getting out into the streets and back into the safety of the Marriott hotel just three blocks to the left. He only made it as far as the third row of gas pumps before he was grabbed and pushed to the ground by yet another walker. Instinctively, Q drops the bag and braces his forearm underneath the walker's chin as he proceeds to beat the creature upside the right of it's head with the but of the 357. All the while the walker thrashes and squirms to get to him. It's breath was putrid, unlike anything he ever smelled before...save for a stink bomb he set off in the girl's locker room sometime ago before the world went crazy.

He strikes frantically at the walker that has him trapped, growing more desperate as more begin to crowd around him. In the back of his head the horrific thought crept into his mind that he just might not make it out of this one. Maybe those smokes were a bad idea after all. The walker, finally wising up as to why it couldn't reach its meal reaches for his arm and pins it down to his side.

"Fuck man, not like this-shit-fuck-fuck-_fuck -fuck-FUCK-FUCK-GAAAAAAAABE!" _He shouts aloud, praying that Gabe,or anyone for that matter would come to his rescue. The walker lurches back, mouth wide open and lunges in for his neck.

"_BANG"_

A gunshot echoes through the streets, the walker atop Q seizing up before falling off to the side.

"You know ya love me bro" Gabe says from over the walkie. "Kayla and Mike are on their way out to help out, get your ass back here." Not being one to ignore a generally good idea, Q gets back onto his feet, gun and bag in hand and makes a break for the street again. Just as Gabe said, Kayla and Mike were already making their way down the street, guns blazing.

"Hey you alright Q?" Kayla asks as Q fires off a few rounds from the air soft 357, managing to drop three of the walkers as he rejoins his group. "You weren't bit were ya?" Mike queues in after.

"I wasn't bit, I'm fine aside from almost pissing my pants and I still can't believe this thing works now let's get the ever living fuck out of dodge!" He spits out as quick as he could, running ahead with the others following suit. As he breaks left towards the Marriott he notices a lone figure standing on the rooftop, shots sounding off and walkers dropping dead in their tracks. Q slips his gun in between his belt and retrieves the walkie from his pocket. "The hell took you so long on that shot Gabe?"

Gabe laughs to himself from the other end of the walkie. "That's for getting me Menthol's; _again_." He answers back. Q falls silent, still racing for the Marriott before he presses his thumb to the receiver. "I'm not apologizing but I'll share one of mine with ya." There's a pause of silence as Gabe takes another shot and Q pockets the radio to throw the bag past the hood of a wrecked squad car, leaping through the air and doing a Kong off of the vehicle. All those lessons were finally paying off. "Dude, you picked up smooths again didn't you?" Landing on his feet, he snatches up the bag again and pulls the walkie out of his pocket. Kayla and Mike pause to drop a few more walkers pursuing them before they circle around the car after Q. "...I love you." Q answers. "No homo bro." Gabe answers back.

Q makes it over to the revolving doors first. The other doors had long since been boarded up and all that had to be done to stop up the revolving door was to shove a couple of full luggage carts into either side. He takes up a defensive position at the right side, picking off any walkers that got close to cover Mike and Kayla. The two of them manage to pick off a few more along the way but despite that their numbers just kept piling on. The walkers were coming from out of the wood works; from underneath cars, out of broken windows from other buildings, from several blocks down the road.

"C'mon you guys hurry it up!" Q shouts, his air soft gun going off but no more shots firing. He struggles not to swear out loud. He was out of ammo and it took way too long to reload. Near the revolving door, Kayla trips over herself just a few feet from the door. Mike stops and starts to turn to go get her.

"Mike wait!" Q shouts as he runs out and shoves the gym bag into his hands. "There's too many of these things, go inside, I'll grab Kayla!" With the situation growing too dire to argue, he takes the bag and disappears into the hotel. The one carton of L&Ms slips out from the bag and into the street behind him. Q goes and picks up Kayla from the ground. "No time to talk, get inside and stop up the door' now!" He shouts to her, pushing her towards the door. Watching her as she goes he notices the carton on the ground, running over and snatching it off from the floor before he breaks right, pushing past a thinner gathering of walkers before he takes off down the street. Crazy as it seemed he -refused- to leave empty handed.

"Christ Q, what the hell are you doing?!" Gabe shouts out from over the walkie. Q pulls it free from his pocket, his left hand no longer burdened by the goods he raided previously.

"There's way too many of'em at the door, they'd have slipped in if I tried to follow Mike and Kayla back in just cover me til I can get outta here!" he shouts into the walkie. Without another words shots begin firing from the rooftop again, Q focused solely on not becoming Monday's special as walkers drop all around him, either from a failed dive for him or from one of Gabe's shots hitting their mark. He manages to make it four more blocks down the road before he began to become winded. Q knew he wouldn't last much longer like this.

He looks around frantically, walkers still hot on his trail, looking for some means of getting the hell out of dodge before his lungs finally give out on him. Just a little further down the way he spots a lone maroon Blazer parked haphazardly on the side of the road; still in good condition to boot. Q resolves himself to take a chance and breaks into a sprint towards the vehicle. At this point it was either the thing drives or the horde of freaks behind him would be picking him out of their teeth later on. Without a second thought he opens up the front door, unable to be thankful for fact that it was left unlocked as another walker lungs out of the drivers seat after him. Q nearly trips and falls as he steps off to the left to avoid it.

Q, in answer, bounds into the air and plants both of the heels of his boots into the walker's skull before he dives into the front seat and closes the door. It didn't matter to him right now if he killed it or no. He drops the carton he held onto into the passenger seat and goes to look for the keys. Glancing down at the transmission, he couldn't help but pause and smile slyly to himself.

"Must be my lucky day after all." He muses to himself. His moment of triumph was cut short as one of the pursuing walkers slams itself against his door. Nearly jumping out of his skin (reassuring himself that he didn't shriek like an eight year old girl just then) he reaches for the transmission and turns the key that was left behind. The vehicle revs up and then roars to life. With a shout of victory, he slams his foot onto the gas and takes off, throwing the walker that was banging at his door onto its backside as he takes off.

He barrels down the road and breaks left to avoid the oncoming crowd. There were clear streets ahead leading up towards the highway overpass. With one hand he fumbles in his pockets and pulls out the walkie. "God damn, that got hairy pretty fast huh?" He asks. The walkie crackles to life, Kayla and Mike asking about his well being while Gabe tries to calm them down. "Yeah it did man, you alright."

"Yeah I'm fine, but I don't think I'm gonna make it back to you guys. There's too many of those deadheads out there to make it back safe." "Good point bro...what're you gonna do now man?" Q falls silent, now making a right onto the highway overpass. With none of the walkers in sight on the highway and those who were previously after him giving up the hunt he stops the car in the middle of the road; the vast road stretched out before him. "I don't know man. Those things'll be hanging around for awhile...I'm thinking I might go out and take a drive; see if I can't find anymore supplies to bring in or anymore survivors to come help." "Q are you out of your mind? We don't know what it's like out there!" Q sighs to himself and shakes his head, thumb on the receiver again. "But we know it's too dangerous here. There's too much heat out there and you know we're all boned if I try to slip in now."

"Where you gonna go?" Gabe asks. Q glances towards the road signs over head, making note of the interstate signs. A smile begins to creep up onto his face as he readies his walkie. "I dunno, was thinking Illinois sounded good." "ILLINOIS ARE YOU OFF YOUR FUCKING ROCKER?!" Came Gabe's voice blasting from the speaker; loud enough to get a high pitched squeal from it and, to Q's dismay, nearly burst his eardrums. "Hey calm down and just hear me out man; it's getting too dangerous here and we're running out of supplies to collect here. This place is just about tapped out and it's too dangerous to justify staying. I'll go on ahead, just keep that radio on you and check in if you guys decide to leave." As good an excuse as any to hide the fit of wanderlust he was feeling.

"Dammit Q can we at least try to talk abo-" He tunes the voice from the walkie out as he tosses it into the passenger side seat next to the carton of smokes, turning on the CD player and turning up the volume full blast. Someone left a Nightwish CD in there; maybe things were looking up after all. He slams his foot on the gas again and takes off for the open road. With one hand on the wheel he reaches for the carton to claim his hard fought for prize...realizing to his horror that he snagged the L&Ms instead.

"..._MOTHER FU-!"_

End


End file.
